Disclaimer:: Again, don't own diddly but Morgan and her family.
Warning!:: I've kept this rated PG-13 because it's no worse than some of the things that you'll find on prime-time crime dramas. However. there are some fairly graphic descriptions of violence and torture in this particular chapter. These are pivotal to the story, and I've tried to leave most of the gory details out and describe it as clinically as possible, still I thought it best to warn people so that you can just skip those parts. If anyone objects, please, drop me a review or an email and I'll up the rating on this story.
Requests:: Reviews! Reviews are wonderful things! They let the author know that you enjoy their story, and you have an interest in seeing how the characters progress!
==============================================================
I waited for Pat to gather himself, not quite on the edge of my seat, but not as relaxed as I could have been. He was breaking the rules talking to me. Then again, it wasn't anything he hadn't done in the past. I had been using my illusions to help him solve crimes since I was 19, so for the past seven years or so. Some of the crime scenes were pretty gruesome, but he swears that without my help he wouldn't have solved any of them. Truthfully, I had a passion for detective work but I tried to limit my snooping to computers, and not such tangible means as police work.
He sighed. "Well, it started back in April. We found this guy, he'd been strung up-" Pat shivered. "I'll sum it up. We've found eight bodies so far, all of which show signs of torture before death. Being racked, nails pulled off, carved up, stuff like that. The past three we've found have been skinned alive. Not their entire body, not yet. But each one has been worse than the one before it." He took off his fedora and scrubbed a hand through his short, crew cut red hair. "Each scene has been a bloody mess. How we've managed to keep it quiet is amazing."
"What's the connection?" I asked.
"The time frame. It's in a countdown. We found the first one on April 11. The next was on May eight, then June first." He said.
"It's losing three days every time." Kurt said softly. "That means the next one, it would have been on, ah, June 22."
Pat nodded. "it's been counting down fairly steadily. You would have been number nine. It's building up towards something. Something big. There's more though. Blue boy here confirms it for me."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at the nickname my uncle had given him. "Ja? That is?"
"I believe all the victims were mutants." He said.
I absorbed that particular bit of knowledge with a chill. "Well, that's cheery," I said.
"Yeah." Pat agreed.
"Could you give me more details?" Kurt asked. His tail, which had been wrapped around his legs, was now swishing excitedly.
"I can give you all the details you like. You're my first living clue." Pat said.
Pat told Kurt that seven of the victims had been male, and the other two female. They ranged in age from sixteen to forty two. There didn't seem to be a racial preference.
The first victim had been hung naked from a ceiling by his wrists, and had weights strapped to his ankles. The only bones still connected to each other were those in his hands, feet, the plates in his skull, and his jaw. Everything else had been pulled apart.
When they'd found the next victim, a female found in the bathroom of a gay nightclub, they'd thought it had been a lovers quarrel. She'd died of a gunshot wound to the head, but before the bullet had ended her life, she'd had her fingernails and toenails pulled out by the roots.
The third man they'd found dumped in a dumpster. He'd suffered so many lacerations that he'd simply bled out. The fourth had also been found in a dumpster-well, a series of them. He'd been dismembered, and not neatly. Like someone had grabbed him and just ripped him apart bare handed. There were even bruises on his skin that could have come from human hands.
It was probably the fifth one that got me the most though. Another woman, this one found naked. Pat had trouble telling this one, he was practically shaking with rage when he finished describing what had been done to her. Kurt looked pale, and I actually felt physically ill. In a nutshell, after being brutally raped, she'd been disemboweled, and her insides had been used to decorate an alley as if it were Christmas. I gathered that she'd been alive for the process, until her poor body couldn't take it anymore.
The sixth victim was the first of the skinned ones. He'd been scalped, head, shoulders, arms and face skinned, apparently while he was still alive. The seventh was much the same, only he'd been skinned down to his hips. The eight had been skinned from neck to ankles on the back, and his stomach as well.
All of us were silent for a moment. "The first girl, she was found in a gay bar wasn't she?" I asked. Pat nodded. "Well, was she a lesbian?"
"According to the bartender, yeah. She was kind of a regular there." Pat answered, "If your thinking the other one was gay though, you'd be wrong. She was engaged."
"Did you bother to ask her fiancée if she might have been bi? Or if they took playmates to the bedroom with them occasionally?" I asked.
"He denied it." Pat said. "Said that she'd never expressed any interest in that. Talking to her friends and family, she was fairly white bread. Besides, she was raped. The murder couldn't be a woman."
Apparently he'd already thought of what I'd thought of. "Well, what do the vics have in common?"
"As far as I can tell, absolutely nothing." Pat said. He gave a huge yawn and stretched. Exhaustion was clearly written in his features.
We weren't going to get anywhere this way. "Is the file in the cop box?" I asked. It was my personal slang for the departments computer system. I was rather familiar with it.
"No. We've kept it off so hackers like you can't sneak it out." Pat said. "But I'll see if I can't get you all the information we have on it."
"Fine then. Go home. Get some sleep." I said. I stood up and stretched, my brain buzzing with all sorts of theories. "Get me those files, and I'll tell you what I find out."
"You shoulda been a cop." Pat chuckled. "I stick a mystery under your nose, and that's all you can smell until you've got it solved."
"My momma didn't raise no cops." I said.
"How do you explain four of your brothers then?" Pat grinned as he slogged towards my front door.
"Dad raised those four." I answered, and shoved him, laughing, out the door.
"Mien Gott," Kurt said softly, "Such horrible murders-"
"Yeah." I said, and scrubbed a hand through my hair. I was bone weary, and what I really wanted was sleep. We both only been up for just a few hours, but I saw him yawning, and new he must have been as tired as me. "Tell you what, why don't we both get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow we can come at this with fresh minds."
"Ja. That is probably the best course of action." He said. "I shall take the couch.
I thought about it for a moment. "No, I can."
"Nein. I insist. I have already removed you from your bed one night. I have no desire to remove you from it for another. A pillow and a blanket will suit me just fine." He said.
I shrugged. "Suit yourself." I fetched him what he asked for, and then bade him good night, falling into my own bed still fully clothed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I woke to the sound of a voice speaking softly in German. I couldn't make out the words but the tone was low, urgent. I lay still for a moment, trying to orient myself to the voice. It sounded like it was coming from the living room, which is where I had left Kurt. I rolled out of bed, and peeked down the hall and to the couch.
Kurt lay in nothing but his boxers, the blanket tangled in his legs, and he looked tense, head rolling back and forth of the pillow. As I watched he shifted, legs squirming, tail corkscrewing as his face twisted up painfully. He spat out something harsh. Clearly, he was having a nightmare. "Nein! NEIN! Lassen Sie mich allein! Lassen Sie mich sein!" I heard him say.
"Kurt," I crossed the room and knelt next to the couch, reaching my hand out to him. A full throated scream tore itself free of his lips, and he thrashed wildly on the couch. I grabbed his arms, and was surprised when he tore them from my grasp. Faster than I could think he had rolled off the couch and bore me to the ground, my legs still folded painfully underneath me. I felt his body press hard against mine, his fingers digging into my arms. He snarled at me, bright yellow eyes snapping open.
As fast as it had happened, I heard him gasp and saw the recognition in his eyes. Immediately he was gone in a puff of black smoke. I groaned unfolded my legs from under me. "Ich bin traurig, Ich bin traurig, verzeihen Sie mir bitte." Kurt was whispering. I turned and saw him.
Much to my amazement, he'd wedged himself into the only empty corner of my living room, upside down, hanging from my ceiling like some weird kind of spider. He looked dazed, confused.
"Kurt," I said softly, "please, come down here."
He blinked is large, golden eyes at me, and gave a visible shudder, then lightly dropped down from the floor. I watched as he nimbly turned himself, screwing his body around so that he landed on his feet in a deep crouch, facing me. "Ich bin traurig." He said.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
His tail lashed, and then wrapped itself around his legs. "I'm sorry," he said. He looked thoroughly miserable, and frightened. I went to him, kneeling down next to him. He was still shivering, from fear or what I don't know. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, feeling the slick softness of his fur under my fingertips. It was like touching velveteen.
He flinched away, but I don't think it was because I touched him. "Kurt, there's nothing to apologize for. You were having a nightmare, it was reflex." I moved a bit closer, off to the side, and deliberately put my arm around his bare shoulders. He hesitated a moment before trying to pull away again, "Kurt, no one is going to hurt you here." I said softly, and he stopped moving. "It's all right to be afraid. You've been through a lot. If it were me, I'd be blubbering on the floor by now."
Abruptly, his weight sagged into me. His head found my shoulder and rested there as his arms came around me. Even his tail got into the act, wrapping itself around my leg. There was a surprising amount of strength in his wiry arms, and he held me tightly. He was shaking, his shoulders moving in silent rhythm, and I felt something hot and wet soaking through the fabric of my shirt. I held him there, on the floor, and whispered to him. I don't remember what I said. Words of comfort, more than likely. I do remember the feeling of his hair, like silk through my fingers, the feel of his skin against mine.
He stayed there for a long while, until my legs fell asleep, and my back ached, and still I held him. My physical discomfort was less important than his emotional well being. It was only after I couldn't feel my toes anymore that he quieted, and carefully extracted himself from my embrace. The skin around his eyes was puffy and swollen, and there was a rather large wet spot on my shirt from where his tears had fallen. "My apologies again," he said sheepishly, and scrubbed at his eyes. "I don't know why I lost control like that." He sounded embarrassed, awkward, as if he didn't know what he was doing. Lost, for lack of a better word.
I shifted and unfolded my legs, stretching them painfully in front of me. "Because you needed to." I said through gritted teeth. "No man is an island." I wriggled my toes, and felt that familiar pins and needles sensation as the blood began to flow freely. It was almost painful, and that must have shown on my face because Kurt knelt beside me, concern clear on his face. "I'm fine. Just, both my legs are asleep."
"Ach, Ich bin solch ein Idiot!" he shook his head. "I should not have kept you on the floor like that." Before I could protest, he had slipped on arm under my knees, the other under the small of my back and lifted me up off the floor. I squeaked and wrapped my arms around his neck, and he laughed as he carried me to the sofa. Gently, he sat me down on the sofa. Then, much to my surprise, he squatted down in front of me and took one of my feet into his oddly shaped hands.
Gently, he began to massage the life back into my feet, up the length of my calves and back down. Despite myself, I felt a soft sigh escape my lips and my head fell back against the couch. He chuckled. "Ja, that is usually the reaction I get from doing this." He said, and then paused, "I think. It seems so, yes." His face was quizzical, and he looked up at me and wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed despite myself. My legs were feeling remarkable better, though my back was still relatively achey. He continued for a few more moments, then spilled into the other end of the couch, curling up, legs tucked under his chin. It looked like an uncomfortable position, but he seemed content. I tucked my legs beneath me, and grabbed the remote off the end table. "I don't know about you," I said, "But I'm probably not going to get back to sleep tonight."
"Nein." He said. "I think perhaps I'm awake for a while."
I turned on the TV and surfed through the channels until I found something I liked. We sat on the couch and stared at the screen, not talking, preferring to let the television provide the ultimate distraction and fill the silence. I stretched my legs out, lounging against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments Kurt's tail wrapped around my ankle. I blinked at it blearily, for I had grown very sleepy sitting here on the sofa. Kurt had nodded off, curled up on the other end of the couch. I shrugged inwardly, and turned my attention back to the TV
I was awakened by the sound of metal squealing.
Translations provided by Wordlingo.com
Nein! NEIN! Lassen Sie mich allein! Lassen Sie mich sein! = No! no! Leave me alone! Let me be! Ich bin traurig, Ich bin traurig, verzeihen Sie mir bitte. = I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me. Ach, Ich bin solch ein Idiot! = Ah! I am such an idiot!
Warning!:: I've kept this rated PG-13 because it's no worse than some of the things that you'll find on prime-time crime dramas. However. there are some fairly graphic descriptions of violence and torture in this particular chapter. These are pivotal to the story, and I've tried to leave most of the gory details out and describe it as clinically as possible, still I thought it best to warn people so that you can just skip those parts. If anyone objects, please, drop me a review or an email and I'll up the rating on this story.
Requests:: Reviews! Reviews are wonderful things! They let the author know that you enjoy their story, and you have an interest in seeing how the characters progress!
==============================================================
I waited for Pat to gather himself, not quite on the edge of my seat, but not as relaxed as I could have been. He was breaking the rules talking to me. Then again, it wasn't anything he hadn't done in the past. I had been using my illusions to help him solve crimes since I was 19, so for the past seven years or so. Some of the crime scenes were pretty gruesome, but he swears that without my help he wouldn't have solved any of them. Truthfully, I had a passion for detective work but I tried to limit my snooping to computers, and not such tangible means as police work.
He sighed. "Well, it started back in April. We found this guy, he'd been strung up-" Pat shivered. "I'll sum it up. We've found eight bodies so far, all of which show signs of torture before death. Being racked, nails pulled off, carved up, stuff like that. The past three we've found have been skinned alive. Not their entire body, not yet. But each one has been worse than the one before it." He took off his fedora and scrubbed a hand through his short, crew cut red hair. "Each scene has been a bloody mess. How we've managed to keep it quiet is amazing."
"What's the connection?" I asked.
"The time frame. It's in a countdown. We found the first one on April 11. The next was on May eight, then June first." He said.
"It's losing three days every time." Kurt said softly. "That means the next one, it would have been on, ah, June 22."
Pat nodded. "it's been counting down fairly steadily. You would have been number nine. It's building up towards something. Something big. There's more though. Blue boy here confirms it for me."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at the nickname my uncle had given him. "Ja? That is?"
"I believe all the victims were mutants." He said.
I absorbed that particular bit of knowledge with a chill. "Well, that's cheery," I said.
"Yeah." Pat agreed.
"Could you give me more details?" Kurt asked. His tail, which had been wrapped around his legs, was now swishing excitedly.
"I can give you all the details you like. You're my first living clue." Pat said.
Pat told Kurt that seven of the victims had been male, and the other two female. They ranged in age from sixteen to forty two. There didn't seem to be a racial preference.
The first victim had been hung naked from a ceiling by his wrists, and had weights strapped to his ankles. The only bones still connected to each other were those in his hands, feet, the plates in his skull, and his jaw. Everything else had been pulled apart.
When they'd found the next victim, a female found in the bathroom of a gay nightclub, they'd thought it had been a lovers quarrel. She'd died of a gunshot wound to the head, but before the bullet had ended her life, she'd had her fingernails and toenails pulled out by the roots.
The third man they'd found dumped in a dumpster. He'd suffered so many lacerations that he'd simply bled out. The fourth had also been found in a dumpster-well, a series of them. He'd been dismembered, and not neatly. Like someone had grabbed him and just ripped him apart bare handed. There were even bruises on his skin that could have come from human hands.
It was probably the fifth one that got me the most though. Another woman, this one found naked. Pat had trouble telling this one, he was practically shaking with rage when he finished describing what had been done to her. Kurt looked pale, and I actually felt physically ill. In a nutshell, after being brutally raped, she'd been disemboweled, and her insides had been used to decorate an alley as if it were Christmas. I gathered that she'd been alive for the process, until her poor body couldn't take it anymore.
The sixth victim was the first of the skinned ones. He'd been scalped, head, shoulders, arms and face skinned, apparently while he was still alive. The seventh was much the same, only he'd been skinned down to his hips. The eight had been skinned from neck to ankles on the back, and his stomach as well.
All of us were silent for a moment. "The first girl, she was found in a gay bar wasn't she?" I asked. Pat nodded. "Well, was she a lesbian?"
"According to the bartender, yeah. She was kind of a regular there." Pat answered, "If your thinking the other one was gay though, you'd be wrong. She was engaged."
"Did you bother to ask her fiancée if she might have been bi? Or if they took playmates to the bedroom with them occasionally?" I asked.
"He denied it." Pat said. "Said that she'd never expressed any interest in that. Talking to her friends and family, she was fairly white bread. Besides, she was raped. The murder couldn't be a woman."
Apparently he'd already thought of what I'd thought of. "Well, what do the vics have in common?"
"As far as I can tell, absolutely nothing." Pat said. He gave a huge yawn and stretched. Exhaustion was clearly written in his features.
We weren't going to get anywhere this way. "Is the file in the cop box?" I asked. It was my personal slang for the departments computer system. I was rather familiar with it.
"No. We've kept it off so hackers like you can't sneak it out." Pat said. "But I'll see if I can't get you all the information we have on it."
"Fine then. Go home. Get some sleep." I said. I stood up and stretched, my brain buzzing with all sorts of theories. "Get me those files, and I'll tell you what I find out."
"You shoulda been a cop." Pat chuckled. "I stick a mystery under your nose, and that's all you can smell until you've got it solved."
"My momma didn't raise no cops." I said.
"How do you explain four of your brothers then?" Pat grinned as he slogged towards my front door.
"Dad raised those four." I answered, and shoved him, laughing, out the door.
"Mien Gott," Kurt said softly, "Such horrible murders-"
"Yeah." I said, and scrubbed a hand through my hair. I was bone weary, and what I really wanted was sleep. We both only been up for just a few hours, but I saw him yawning, and new he must have been as tired as me. "Tell you what, why don't we both get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow we can come at this with fresh minds."
"Ja. That is probably the best course of action." He said. "I shall take the couch.
I thought about it for a moment. "No, I can."
"Nein. I insist. I have already removed you from your bed one night. I have no desire to remove you from it for another. A pillow and a blanket will suit me just fine." He said.
I shrugged. "Suit yourself." I fetched him what he asked for, and then bade him good night, falling into my own bed still fully clothed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I woke to the sound of a voice speaking softly in German. I couldn't make out the words but the tone was low, urgent. I lay still for a moment, trying to orient myself to the voice. It sounded like it was coming from the living room, which is where I had left Kurt. I rolled out of bed, and peeked down the hall and to the couch.
Kurt lay in nothing but his boxers, the blanket tangled in his legs, and he looked tense, head rolling back and forth of the pillow. As I watched he shifted, legs squirming, tail corkscrewing as his face twisted up painfully. He spat out something harsh. Clearly, he was having a nightmare. "Nein! NEIN! Lassen Sie mich allein! Lassen Sie mich sein!" I heard him say.
"Kurt," I crossed the room and knelt next to the couch, reaching my hand out to him. A full throated scream tore itself free of his lips, and he thrashed wildly on the couch. I grabbed his arms, and was surprised when he tore them from my grasp. Faster than I could think he had rolled off the couch and bore me to the ground, my legs still folded painfully underneath me. I felt his body press hard against mine, his fingers digging into my arms. He snarled at me, bright yellow eyes snapping open.
As fast as it had happened, I heard him gasp and saw the recognition in his eyes. Immediately he was gone in a puff of black smoke. I groaned unfolded my legs from under me. "Ich bin traurig, Ich bin traurig, verzeihen Sie mir bitte." Kurt was whispering. I turned and saw him.
Much to my amazement, he'd wedged himself into the only empty corner of my living room, upside down, hanging from my ceiling like some weird kind of spider. He looked dazed, confused.
"Kurt," I said softly, "please, come down here."
He blinked is large, golden eyes at me, and gave a visible shudder, then lightly dropped down from the floor. I watched as he nimbly turned himself, screwing his body around so that he landed on his feet in a deep crouch, facing me. "Ich bin traurig." He said.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
His tail lashed, and then wrapped itself around his legs. "I'm sorry," he said. He looked thoroughly miserable, and frightened. I went to him, kneeling down next to him. He was still shivering, from fear or what I don't know. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, feeling the slick softness of his fur under my fingertips. It was like touching velveteen.
He flinched away, but I don't think it was because I touched him. "Kurt, there's nothing to apologize for. You were having a nightmare, it was reflex." I moved a bit closer, off to the side, and deliberately put my arm around his bare shoulders. He hesitated a moment before trying to pull away again, "Kurt, no one is going to hurt you here." I said softly, and he stopped moving. "It's all right to be afraid. You've been through a lot. If it were me, I'd be blubbering on the floor by now."
Abruptly, his weight sagged into me. His head found my shoulder and rested there as his arms came around me. Even his tail got into the act, wrapping itself around my leg. There was a surprising amount of strength in his wiry arms, and he held me tightly. He was shaking, his shoulders moving in silent rhythm, and I felt something hot and wet soaking through the fabric of my shirt. I held him there, on the floor, and whispered to him. I don't remember what I said. Words of comfort, more than likely. I do remember the feeling of his hair, like silk through my fingers, the feel of his skin against mine.
He stayed there for a long while, until my legs fell asleep, and my back ached, and still I held him. My physical discomfort was less important than his emotional well being. It was only after I couldn't feel my toes anymore that he quieted, and carefully extracted himself from my embrace. The skin around his eyes was puffy and swollen, and there was a rather large wet spot on my shirt from where his tears had fallen. "My apologies again," he said sheepishly, and scrubbed at his eyes. "I don't know why I lost control like that." He sounded embarrassed, awkward, as if he didn't know what he was doing. Lost, for lack of a better word.
I shifted and unfolded my legs, stretching them painfully in front of me. "Because you needed to." I said through gritted teeth. "No man is an island." I wriggled my toes, and felt that familiar pins and needles sensation as the blood began to flow freely. It was almost painful, and that must have shown on my face because Kurt knelt beside me, concern clear on his face. "I'm fine. Just, both my legs are asleep."
"Ach, Ich bin solch ein Idiot!" he shook his head. "I should not have kept you on the floor like that." Before I could protest, he had slipped on arm under my knees, the other under the small of my back and lifted me up off the floor. I squeaked and wrapped my arms around his neck, and he laughed as he carried me to the sofa. Gently, he sat me down on the sofa. Then, much to my surprise, he squatted down in front of me and took one of my feet into his oddly shaped hands.
Gently, he began to massage the life back into my feet, up the length of my calves and back down. Despite myself, I felt a soft sigh escape my lips and my head fell back against the couch. He chuckled. "Ja, that is usually the reaction I get from doing this." He said, and then paused, "I think. It seems so, yes." His face was quizzical, and he looked up at me and wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed despite myself. My legs were feeling remarkable better, though my back was still relatively achey. He continued for a few more moments, then spilled into the other end of the couch, curling up, legs tucked under his chin. It looked like an uncomfortable position, but he seemed content. I tucked my legs beneath me, and grabbed the remote off the end table. "I don't know about you," I said, "But I'm probably not going to get back to sleep tonight."
"Nein." He said. "I think perhaps I'm awake for a while."
I turned on the TV and surfed through the channels until I found something I liked. We sat on the couch and stared at the screen, not talking, preferring to let the television provide the ultimate distraction and fill the silence. I stretched my legs out, lounging against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments Kurt's tail wrapped around my ankle. I blinked at it blearily, for I had grown very sleepy sitting here on the sofa. Kurt had nodded off, curled up on the other end of the couch. I shrugged inwardly, and turned my attention back to the TV
I was awakened by the sound of metal squealing.
Translations provided by Wordlingo.com
Nein! NEIN! Lassen Sie mich allein! Lassen Sie mich sein! = No! no! Leave me alone! Let me be! Ich bin traurig, Ich bin traurig, verzeihen Sie mir bitte. = I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me. Ach, Ich bin solch ein Idiot! = Ah! I am such an idiot!